


Blur

by fragments_and_pieces



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-24 21:39:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4936297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragments_and_pieces/pseuds/fragments_and_pieces
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris hates when he loses his glasses, mostly because he's too blind to find them on his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blur

**Author's Note:**

> This pairing needs more love tbh

Chris groans as he forces his eyes open, blinking away the sleep. He pushes himself up onto his elbows, squinting as he looks around, wondering where his glasses are. He brings up a hand to rub his face, surprised to find a sticky note attached to his forehead. He hold it close to his eyes and recognizes Josh's hurried writing scrawled on the pink paper: _'Had fun last night, bro! Call you later. -Josh ;)'_

Chris snorts at the winky face Josh had added to his note, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the couch. He yawns, arms high above his head in a stretch. He winces as he cracks his neck, sore from having it in an awkward position. He reachs forward and runs a hand over the coffee table in front of him, assuming his glasses would be there. He frowns when he doesnt find them, only empty beer cans.

He carefully pushes off the couch, kneeling on the floor and feeling around. The teen huffs in frustration when he comes up empty-handed. He stands and slowly makes his way upstairs, gripping the railing, and heads to the bathroom. As he's brushing his teeth, he recalls details from the night before - Josh had come over, they had been drinking a bit, mostly Chris rather than Josh, and at some point they had passed out on the couch. He can't remember anything about his missing glasses.

Going back downstairs, he figures that finding his phone and calling someone to help him look is probably his best option, as he's basically helpless by himself. He finds it discarded on the floor (after stepping on it and nearly falling), by the couch. He scrolls through his contacts, unsure who to call. He knows Josh has a therapy appointment today, which is why he left before Chris woke up, and remembers Ashley saying something about going to the mall with Sam. That leaves Mike, who lives the closest to him after Josh and Ashley.

He taps the screen and holds the phone to his ear, moving around the coffee table to sit back on the couch. Mike picks up after a few rings. "Hello?"

"Hey, Mike," Chris says, voice still groggy.

"Hey, man, how's it goin'?"

"It's, uh, it's going. I actually need a huge favor, if you don't mind?"

"Sure, what's up?"

"Well- Okay, listen, don't laugh, okay? I may have possibly, accidentally misplaced my glasses? And, well, I'm totally blind, as you know, so I was wondering if you could maybe come over and help me find them?"

Mike chuckles, and Chris huffs into the phone, but says, "Yeah, okay, I'll be there in fifteen minutes," and hangs up.

Chris isn't sure what to do while he waits, opting for sitting on the couch and playing with his phone, even though he can barely see it without holding it up to his face. Time passes slowly but eventually the doorbell rings, making Chris jump, and he stumbles to the door to let Mike in.

"Hey," Mike greets when Chris opens the door, walking past him. He slips off his shoes and turns to Chris, who is standing there squinting at him. "So, glasses, right." Mike claps his hands, rubbing them together. "You remember where you had 'em last?"

Chris shakes his head. "No idea."

Mike sighs. "Awesome. This'll be fun."

"Sorry," Chris says, feeling bad. Mike claps him on the back and tells him not to worry about it, before heading off to search for Chris' missing glasses. Chris follows behind him awkwardly, bumping into things here and there. Mike laughs as he looks around the living room, having no luck.

Mike pokes his head into the small downstairs bathroom on their way to the kitchen, but they're not on the porcelein sink. The kitchen is empty as well.

They go to the dining room next, and Mike nearly bursts out laughing when he sees Chris' glasses sitting smack in the middle of the table. Instead, he quickly swipes them and puts them in the pocket of his hoodie. Watching Chris stumble after him and bump into things is more entertaining then Mike'd like to admit. He glances at Chris; he has no idea, squinting at Mike. "What?" he asks.

"Nothing. Let's keep looking."

"Okay," Chris replies, shuffling forward. His foot suddenly catches on a rumple in the rug and he pitches forward with a startled yelp, straight into Mike's back.

"Chris-" is the only thing Mike can get out as they tumble to the floor, though Chris' fall is slightly cushioned by Mike. There's a sickening _crack_ though, which has Chris immedietly rolling off the older teen.

"Mike, oh my God, _Mike,_ are you okay? Mike?" Chris rambles, unsure what the sound was. He really hopes Mike hasn't broken a bone; without his glasses he'd be unable to drive to the hospital.

Mike groans as he flips onto his back and sits up, fumbling with something. "Shit," he says, "I'm sorry, man."

Chris blinks at him. "What? No, dude, _are you okay?_ I heard something crack-"

"Yeah, uh, that was your glasses..."

"My _glasses?"_

"Yeah," Mike replies, and then he's shoving broken plastic into Chris' hands. "I'm really sorry."

"Oh..." Chris brings his glasses closer to inspect the damage. Yikes. "It's fine, man, it was my fault anyway. But, like, they were on the floor?" he asks, confused.

"Uh, well," Mike scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, "they were on the table. I put them in my pocket and hid 'em, 'cause it was pretty funny watching you bump into stuff. So it's my fault. I'll pay for new ones."

Chris looks mildly annoyed, but laughs. "I do bump into a lot of stuff, huh?"

Mike laughs along with him, standing and offering a hand to pull Chris up. "Now what?" he asks when they're both standing. "I mean, how long will it take to get new ones? Are you just gonna be stuck blind or...?"

Chris puts the broken glasses back on the table. "I have a spare pair somewhere, I think," he explains. "Probably in my room."

"Alright," Mike says, leading the way through the living room and to the stairs. They make it all the way up with no major incidents, Chris stumbling only once, and Mike pushes the door to Chris' room open.

Chris opts for sitting Indian-style on his bed and directing Mike around his room, and finally Mike raises the spares in triumph. He makes a big deal of getting on one knee and holding the pair out to Chris dramatically. "Your spares, my lord," he booms in a terrible English accent, bowing his head.

"Why, thank you, brave knight," Chris responds, taking the glasses and slipping them on. It's a relief to finally be able to see.

Mike takes one look at Chris and bursts out laughing. Chris, flushing with sudden embarrassment, remembers exactly why he tries so hard to keep his glasses in good condition - he hates his spares. The thin, wire frames don't fit well with his face, making him look impossibly dorkier.

Mike calms down a bit once he notices Chris' blush. "They're not that bad," he reassures between giggles. When Chris looks unconvinced, he adds, "Really. They're not."

"Right," Chris mumbles, still flustered. "You, um, wanna play some video games of something?" he offers, trying to get the attention off of himself.

"Sure," Mike agrees, trying to catch his breath after so much laughter, and sits on Chris' bed. Chris sets up a game of Halo, and the afternoon slowly wastes away. They order pizza for dinner and pick a shitty horror movie on Netflix to watch while they eat.

Mike stands and stretches as the credits roll up the screen. "I should get going," he says. They make quick work of cleaning up and Chris walks him to the door.

"Hey, thanks again for helping me with the glasses," Chris says.

"Yeah, no problem. Sorry for breaking them, though," Mike replies, pulling his shoes on.

Chris waves a hand. "It's fine, at least we found my spares, right?"

"Yeah," Mike chuckles. "Thanks for having me, man."

"'Course. It was fun, glasses aside." Chris grins. "We'll do it again sometime."

"Yeah, man," Mike says, stepping outside, "I'll see ya." He halfway in his car when he suddenly shouts, "Oh, and Chris?"

"What?"

"Lemme know about your glasses, okay? I said I'd pay-"

"Nah, man, it's fine, you don't have to-"

"Chris, c'mon, dude, I feel like shit for breaking them. Seriously."

"Fine, fine," Chris sighs, "I'll let you know."

"You better." The car door slamming echos in the quiet night, and Chris waits until Mike's pulled out of the driveway before giving one last wave and shutting the door and making a mental note to call his eye doctor in the morning.


End file.
